


Kite Chase

by 7veilsphaedra



Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:08:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25613338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/7veilsphaedra/pseuds/7veilsphaedra
Summary: Shunsui needs to remind Jyoushiro that the most obvious prize in a chase isn't always the most satisfying reward.
Relationships: Kyouraku Shunsui/Ukitake Juushirou
Kudos: 31





	Kite Chase

**Author's Note:**

> Status: Ficlet, about 1,250 words complete.
> 
> PWP ... that's all.

It was March and the breezes were blowing, and something picked a bone of worry at the back of Shunsui's teeth. So Shunsui looked to the skies of southeastern Roukangai where, surely enough, a bright red, long-tailed dragon kite flicked and dove. Shunsui knew it was tethered to a man whose long hair was like the last winter grasses, bleached of colour, whipped around by the wind and whose cheeks would be flushed with fresh air and exercise. 

The kite chase was the right speed of game for Jyoushiro. He could run without getting to the point of exhaustion, or he could stay in one place and let the wind do the running for him. 

In two flash steps, Shunsui was at his side. He frowned at what he saw.

Today, the physically frail death god was breathing even harder than usual, and a sheen of cold sweat sparkled across his forehead. Quite simply, the effort of holding onto the string was too much. 

_“Yarra-yarra, bouzu!”_ Shunsui put a supportive hand under his friend’s elbow. “Isn’t it a little early in the spring to be racing the wind? The crows will complain that the head start you took was unfair.”

“Ah, I guess it’s time to call in my new toy.” Jyoushiro grinned, reeling in the string. This time, in an odd change of situation, it was he who looked sheepish, but Shunsui caught the warmth and gratitude in his glance. Just because chronic pulmonary problems sometimes caught up to the Captain of the Thirteenth didn’t mean he wanted attention drawn to his weaknesses. 

“Do you think Hitsugaya-kun would like this for his birthday?” He started walking toward a hedgerow at the bottom of the hill off of which the kite, pulled off its trajectory, now dangled.

Shunsui looked at it skeptically. “I think he’d appreciate that bottle which your thirds brought back from their last mission a lot more.”

“Cognac!” Jyoushiro snorted. “What would he do with something like that?”

A falcon lifted from the eaves of the abandoned barn on the other side of the bushes, swooping and diving with high-pitched keens of delight at the wind’s wild scudding. Some last brown leaves of autumn shook free from their branches like shards of Sebonzakura.

“You’re right,” Shunsui stroked his beard thoughtfully. “He’d probably use it to distract his second, so why waste good liquor? After we’re done warming our own bellies on the stuff, refill it with a bottle of something less expensive and then you can give it to him!”

“You!” Jyoushiro laughed. “Is that what you do when you bring your bottles over for us to drink?”

He reached over his shoulder and, without even looking, managed to place his fingers on Shunsui’s nose and give it a quick tweak — his complete awareness of physical space a sharp reminder to Shunsui of what made him such a formidable warrior.

“Ow!” Shunsui gave him a sharp smack on the bottom, and before his friend could turn it into a more strenuous sort of wrestling match, wound his arms under Jyoushiro’s and held him close and dear, tracing, rubbing, circling the lean muscular frame with huge warm mitts as he breathed into his ear, “I always save the good stuff for you, Shiro-chan. You know how much I like to get you senselessly drunk so I can work my wicked way with you.”

The notion that Jyoushiro would drink himself into that type of stupour was so ridiculous that Shunsui half-expected to receive a brisk rap on the top of his head, but Jyoushiro simply sank back and relaxed into the warmth and gentle movement, letting his head tip onto the thick, comfy futon of a shoulder with a deep sigh. 

“You should do that to me right now,” he answered so compliantly, that Shunsui immediately rose to attention and would’ve sung the rousing refrain to a triumphal march if he actually knew any. His body always responded when Jyoushiro beckoned, but this time it was such an unusually meek sort of response, so without the usual foreplay of banter, Shunsui also felt a chill of concern. Jyoushiro had to be feeling low on energy to let Shunsui take the lead like that — not that Shunsui was going to let it stop him. It simply tempered his ferocity, transforming the enormous and raw power of his sheer muscular mass into a slower, gentler, lazier rhythm so he wouldn’t hurt the death-god in his physically weakened state. 

Jyoushiro gave a low, ironic laugh. It seemed like he figured that out as well.

“You misunderstand me,” he turned around with husky leer, sliding his arms around Shunsui’s neck and dragging a thigh up the outer length of his leg, as though he was pole-dancing, reminding him of how well-shaped and strong those muscles were, and how fine the skin felt as he would slip against it repeatedly. “I want it hard and fast. I want as much power as you can plough into me. I want your full strength. I want you to own me.”

It hit Shunsui with the power of a freight train. His nostrils dilated and his head tilted back. From his chest, a deep growl rumbled forth. He reached down and hiked up Jyoushiro’s other thigh, lifting him against his waist.

“Hang on,” he warned, and clasping Jyoushiro’s bottom in his hand, flash-stepped over to a stout tree with fine, silvery bark, and without releasing his friend, leaned his back against the trunk for support. 

They shared a voracious kiss, tongues tangling, lips mashed against each other, while Shunsui worked his fingers under Jyoushiro’s clothing. He was going for the other man’s erection, but found his hand smacked away.

“No!” Jyoushiro pulled his mouth free with a gasp. “I want you in me. Push yourself into me. Break me!”

Shunsui’s blood instantly cooled. Sobered, he stepped back from the molten rock his lover was channeling, convinced that another sort of fever was driving Jyoushiro’s lust.

“Shunsui!” the pale man with the flushed cheeks protested. He tried to lunge at his huge partner, but didn’t have the traction. Disappointed, he huffed with frustration, then sagged backward, deflated.

With narrowed eyes, Shunsui slowly sauntered back in between Jyoushiro’s thighs, giving his hips a little shake to remind him who was in control. “I have no trouble going all dominant and forceful on you, if that’s what you really want. EnMa knows you have every power to drive me there, to … to get me all worked up into a state of raw, pure nature! — But it will be on my terms. I won’t ever, ever, ever break you. Ever. Not even in fantasy.”

“Damn it, Shunsui, you break me every time I think about you.” Jyoushiro breathed. “I want to feel you inside me right now.”

“Oh, I’ll give you what you want, make no mistake. Nobody can work me up like you.” Shunsui collected him back against his body, “But we’re going to start off by grabbing that bottle of cognac, and I'm going to take you to a private onsen where the liquor, hot water and steam will relax you into a state in which every part of your body opens up to me like warm wax. And we’re going to end up on a proper nest of futons, cushions and duvets so no little aches and twinges pull you away from the feel of my cock pounding into you. I refuse to share you even with your own body. I’m that possessive. I’m that jealous.”

“Hurry!” Jyoushiro laughed, throwing his arms around his neck once again, as he was flash-stepped away from his kite and the cold, blustery hills.


End file.
